Golden hour glow and effortless style – that’s what it’s all about! Feeling cozy in my favorite oversized knit and letting the city lights fade into the background as we stroll through this perfect ev...

“There. That’s always been the tricky part, hasn’t it?” We haven’t said much since she walked in, not really. Just the quiet shuffle of her shoes on the hardwood most of the time – familiar, comfortable even, for years. Like one of those well-worn blankets everyone secretly loves but might admit to hating when it gets too cold. This sweater, for instance – perfect. Cashmere, obviously, though she never notices if it’s a little frayed around the edges. A bit of chaos doesn’t hurt, does it?

This light…it used to catch everything beautifully, didn’t it? The dust motes dancing in the afternoon sun, the way his coffee would always be lukewarm, the scent of woodsmoke after a good rain. And then there wasn't a good rain for so long. A while, maybe. Five years? Feels longer sometimes. More like ten.

You’re staring, aren't you? Not at us, exactly. At the leaf clinging stubbornly to the sill outside. Always at something external, isn’t that it? Like you think the answer lies out there, amongst the fallen leaves rather than within these silent rooms. Which is fair, perhaps. It was mostly our fault, wasn’t it? Our expectations were a little high, weren’t they? Too many to bear sometimes.

See, he hated autumn. Said it felt like things dying. Maybe we did. Or maybe we just got tired of watching them die. There’s a trace of him in the light today, don’t you think? A ghost of a smile, caught in the pattern of the curtains.

Now, look at you again. Slightly hesitant gaze. Bit of a sigh escaping your lips. It's okay to notice, after all. It has to be. After all this time…”

What do you think? Let us know where you want to focus the next round – a particular detail about the wardrobe, or perhaps more about the potential history!